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The slave fires of a bond slut are doubtless the strongest of her chains. Not unoften is a would-be fugitive apprehended because, driven by her slave needs, she has no alternative other than to seek their assuagement. She kneels to a guardsman, casting off her disguise, revealing herself as a collared slave, and begging to be returned to her master. Too, it is not surprising that a guardsman may be in the vicinity, for he may have followed her, noting, under the stolen robes and veils, the body movements, the hesitant, uncertain steps, the tormented breathing, perhaps even the confused, trembling responses to civil inquiries, of a woman in the grip of slave needs. Yes, perhaps it is just as well that these fires have not been lit in the bellies of most of the women of Earth, for how alien are such fires to their cultures. How they would then suffer! And how little would they be satisfied! How few men of Earth, I conjecture, would understand such flames. Would they not be more likely to abuse and castigate the unfortunate women for revealing such needs, perhaps even for having such needs. - (Guardsman of Gor, Chapter )